


The Right Kind of Wedding

by Chocolatepot



Category: The Decoy Bride (2011)
Genre: F/M, Simple Wedding, Wedding Fluff, Wedding Planning, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-23 23:08:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20016292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chocolatepot/pseuds/Chocolatepot
Summary: The second time around, James takes a very different approach to wedding planning.





	The Right Kind of Wedding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Karios](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Karios/gifts).



> I couldn't believe it when I saw that you requested this! I love this movie and this relationship and these characters so much. You noted in your letter that "there's very little of James in his and Lara’s ceremony," and I agree - so I wanted to show him getting the chance to be more involved.

When Katie asked James her first question about flower choices, he was surprised. It simply hadn’t occurred to him that she _would_ ask, because his experience was that weddings sort of happened around you, without requiring any thought from yourself. Then he was surprised again, because he expected not to have an opinion, but when he opened his mouth to say so, “I like the white roses with ferns and baby’s breath,” came out instead. “You’re right, the lilies are too much.” Pleased, Katie went back to her lists and left him to his writing. After a long pause, he started up again.

The next day, when he sat down to work on the next chapter, his fingers wouldn’t follow his direction. It wasn’t the worst he’d ever been blocked, but after an hour of writing in four-word bursts, he slapped the side of the typewriter, leaned back in his chair, and covered his face with his hands. It was no way to live, it really wasn’t. _Well, maybe a little stream of consciousness exercising would help._ Pulling out a fresh piece of paper, he fed it into the roller, set the carriage, and then flexed his fingers.

_Katie walked down the aisle, resplendent in white. Her hair was dressed simply, long and curled with a spray of white flowers behind her ear. The groom’s eyes met hers and she smiled sweetly._

Startled, he drew his fingers back from the keys. That wasn’t at all what he’d expected to come out. He tried again:

_He already knew what she looked like in a wedding dress, but he couldn’t wait to see her in one again. It had no train, but was otherwise designed on classic lines, and her bouquet matched the little boutonniere fixed to his jacket. The church itself seemed to press in on their reenactment of the ancient wedding rite so that it could hear the words spoken again._

Clearly, James was not going to get any writing done today, unless he completely changed the course of his current novel (which was about a prisoner of war in World War II, and he didn’t see how he could fit a wedding into it). Instead, he went to find Katie. She was curled up in an armchair, going over the proofs for her guidebook to Singapore with a red pen in one hand, and for a moment he just stood in the doorway and watched her. Then she felt his eyes on her and looked up, making a face.

“Why are you staring at me like that, then?”

“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. Just remembering that I could have married Lara Tyler.”

She made another face and threw the pen at him, and grinned when he brought it back to her. “What are you really thinking about? Is the writing not going well?”

Should he make his face more serious? Or would that make the whole thing very weird? He wandered over and perched on the arm of the chair, trying to look casual. “It’s not, but that’s because … well, I keep thinking … I mean – would it be a problem for you if I helped out a bit more with the wedding planning?”

“Oh, you want to!” Katie scrambled up and set her proofs aside. “I thought you might not, you said you weren’t that involved with, you know, before.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” James threw his mind back to preparing for that first wedding attempt in the cathedral – Lara had gone all-in on choosing flowers and ribbons and shades of white and minute variations on vanilla cakes; he’d gamely come to appointments with planners and producers, and sampled whatever little things he was supposed to be sampling, but ultimately it had been a Lara Tyler Star Vehicle. They were engaged because she had wanted him as her fiancé, and wasn’t that flattering: how many of the 9,800 would she ever meet, let alone date? By the time he’d started to question whether exactly he wanted to do what he was doing in a very small voice in the very back of his head, the production was on a roll. There was so much that had already been done that it was very easy to crush that voice; to smother it with the logical good sense that told him not to be an idiot, of _course_ he was madly in love with the beautiful and accomplished Lara. But this time, he very much did want to do what he was doing. He’d known it when he wrote that dedication into his little chapter of a book, and when he set off for Hegg with a backpack and a duffle, and when he followed Katie across the globe. And if she wanted him to, he would willingly step back and let her manage everything down to the tiniest detail, so that she could have this wedding exactly the way she wanted it … “I’m actually feeling terribly interested in catering, interior decorating, all that. Thought we could put it to good use.”

“Brilliant!” Katie came up on her knees with a grin and he bent down to kiss her, her hands tenderly cupping his face as his arms snaked around her. When they finally broke away, she asked, “So, any ideas you’d like to share?”

“For starters, I really feel I should wear your father’s plaid trousers and shaggy orange jacket, in order to properly honor your heritage – ow! I can’t believe you’re starting our second marriage with spousal abuse!”

* * *

Together, they visited the little bakery on Hegg that normally produced little more than rock cakes, and the florist that had to special-order every bit of the bouquet. At every step, they asked each other if they should be splashing out on a fancy catering company or someone to organize the flowers, but it just felt right to make things very simple and matter-of-fact. James did want to take Katie to London, or at least Edinburgh, for a dress from an elegant bridal shop, but she demurred.

“The ladies from the Hegg Book Club want to make me one, and to be honest I’m sort of curious about what they’ll come up with.”

James was more doubtful than curious, but held his tongue; if it turned out to be ridiculous, it could always become yet another story they could remind each other of in quiet moments when they wanted a laugh.

As it turned out, it was not ridiculous.

It was simple, as befitted their low-key plans – ankle-length, with no train; no gathered-up skirt, no lace overlay, no off-the-shoulder neckline. James didn’t know all of the technical terms, but it had a bodice that was held up with two straps running over her shoulders and tapered to her waist, where it met a skirt that smoothly and slightly flared to the hem, which floated around her legs. Her hair was worn mostly down and slightly curled, with a white rose in full bloom tucked into it, and she carried a small bouquet with – as planned – a few white roses and a handful of baby’s breath and ferns.

“No veil,” he said once Katie’d approached the front of the church, quietly enough for the congregation of Heggites to miss. It was hard to say _anything_ , though, with the way his chest was tightening up at the sight of her bridal presence.

“No,” she agreed. “Think of all the trouble a veil got us into last time. I didn’t want you to end up marrying my cousin by accident.”

“That would be a tragedy.” He kept his tone light and bantery, but at that moment he meant it with his whole heart. It beat loudly throughout the service – his analytical revision-brain pointed out that this was such a cliché, but it felt like everyone should be able to hear it.

The whole ceremony passed smoothly and without incident – nobody ran in shouting that he had an objection, the rings didn’t disappear from the pillow of the tiny child recruited to carry them down the aisle. James wanted to savor it, but it slipped through his fingers and suddenly they were both answering the ultimate question posed by the same minister who’d unmarried them on the rocks. He bent down to kiss Katie, and her right hand came up to cup the back of his neck; then her left arm, the hand still holding the bouquet, wound around it from the other side. He felt himself dip her slightly, holding her close – he was always going to hold her close after this. James was never going to walk away from her again, and he was _never_ going to let himself put that sad, desperate expression on her face again, either. If he had anything to do with it, she was certainly going to live happily ever after.


End file.
